The Last Christmas
by u2shay
Summary: A boy and a girl on the cusp of young adulthood spend a peaceful Christmas with their beloved family not knowing the fate that is soon to befall them. A historical drabble.  Canon/AU


**The Last Christmas

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**A/N:** So, I wrote this for game two of ADF's 12 days of Christmas the other day and thought I would share. It's not long because the rules stated that it had to be under 1000 words, Christmas themed, and have canon characterizations.

This little drabble is based on a dream I had.

Hope you all have a blessed and merry Christmas!

~Shay**

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**Near Würzburg, Germany **

**December 24, 1625**

I stood silently, observing the small half-timbered home. Who knew that such promise could be hidden in this rustic environment? I had insisted on coming myself when Eleazar's messenger had arrived.

The house was squat and two storied with a single clay-lined wooden chimney that sprouted from the center of the thatched roof. It stood crookedly on a rubble stone foundation, plaster gleaming brightly from between the roughhewn logs that framed the structure.

A woman busied herself in front of the massive open fireplace, setting a kettle of water on a hook and swinging it over the fire. She stirred a copper pot of wassail that sat warming on the stone hearth. The unwashed children—the ones that mattered— stumbled into the main room, having scrambled down excitedly from the open loft. A small human toddler of indeterminate sex lay swaddled in a cradle near the warmth, and the father reclined on a rustic chair before an equally rustic table.

He stroked his grizzled beard and smiled slightly at the antics of his older progeny as they shifted from foot to foot, their eyes darting toward the scraggly pine tree that was propped in the corner. He had a long pipe clenched between his yellowed and rotted teeth and his feet were stretched out before him, crossed at the ankles.

"Chores first, my lad," he said sternly to his son. "There's milking to be done."

"Yes, father," the boy replied glumly. He scrambled into a knitted woolen jacket, cap, scarf, and mittens, his dark head bowed to hide his pouting lips and disappointed eyes, and quickly stepped outside with a hammered pail in hand.

As soon as the door shut, the father stood and approached his wife, wrapping his arms around her burgeoning waist and kissing her flushed neck. "A merry Christmas eve, my love."

She patted his hand and smoothed his shaggy, gray-streaked hair before turning back to the pot of spiced apples and oats that bubbled high above the shimmering coals.

"Shall I prepare a goose?"

His wife acquiesced with a low murmured "please" and a gentle smile. Her husband ruffled his daughter's blonde hair and pinched her cheek affectionately before taking his leave. Grabbing a small hand axe from beside the door, he headed into the blustery cold of the early morn.

The day passed quickly, sounds of joy and contentment loud in the stillness of the surrounding forest. The children played in the snow, laughing and running and splattering one another with the icy remnants of last night's storm. They built a snowman in front of the home and pleadingly convinced their mother to part with a precious carrot from her larder. They used grayish stones for the eyes and mouth and scraggly sticks for their creation's arms.

Their father nodded in approval of the lumpy, indiscernible figure before their mother shooed them inside, instructing them to warm themselves by the fire and plying them with strong cups of tea laden with cream and _kluntjes_.

The smell of roasting goose and baking _stollen _permeated the house. The girl and her mother rolled out _lebkuchen _and shaped them into the figures of men while the boy and his father folded pieces of paper into intricately shaped ornaments. After the cookies had cooled, they threaded them with string and decorated the tree with their homemade offerings, apples, and the spent nubs of candles that they attached to the end of the branches with melted wax.

Hearing the approach of an immortal behind me, I turned from my observations with a smile. "Ah, Eleazar, welcome!" I motioned toward the house. "Tell me, my friend, what do you see?"

"A happy family," he murmured, grimacing.

I glanced at him with a raised brow.

He sighed, looking troubled. A conscience was a terrible thing for an immortal to have. "Powerful gifts, master," he replied reluctantly. "The girl…there is fire in her mind."

My sudden grin became absolutely feral. "And its manifestation?" I couldn't keep the excitement out of my voice. If she could create fire, burn an immortal where he stood… My hands clenched into fists at my sides. I had to have her. Immediately.

"I know not."

And the boy? Her brother?"

"Nothing."

"He doesn't have a gift?" _Such a pity…_

"He does… There's a void inside of him… It's threatening, menacing…almost…"

He had piqued my interest. "Almost?" I prompted.

"Consuming…"

_Fascinating… _"Demetri!"

He bowed before me elegantly, as was his nature. "Yes, master?"

"Contact the Prince Bishop of Würzburg…a Julius something, I can't keep track of them all," I waved my hand nonchalantly, "and incite his pious nature concerning the witchcraft that overruns his realm." I tossed him my purse. The gold was of no use to me, but the world of men seemed to hold it in high regard. "You will need witnesses. Make sure this family is named first."

"I will see it done, master," Demetri replied.

I glanced at Eleazar. He was frowning.

"You disapprove?"

"These things… they cannot be contained once started. The fires of hysteria will burn long after you have gained your prize."

I sniffed. I cared not for the superstitious follies of world. I wanted these children and needed a plausible excuse for turning them now. Humans were so fragile. There were accidents, sicknesses, unforeseen events. It was insanity to wait.

"And this should matter to the Volturi, Eleazar? To you?"

"They will burn them, Aro. You know this. You know how fearful humans are. They see witches and demons behind every corner. The pyres of Würzburg have barely cooled from the last series of trials, and they're but children…"

"Yes. Alas, it's tragic, but for the best in the end. You will come to see this in time, Eleazar."

I turned toward Demetri. "My son?"

"Yes, master?"

"I trust that you will insure that my new son and daughter are not harmed beyond repair?"

"Of course, master," he said with a smile before disappearing into the rapidly closing night.

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**Notes: _**The Würzburg Witch Trials took place in Germany from 1626 to 1631. According to Wikipedia, it was one of the largest mass executions seen in Europe during peace times. Out of the 219 people executed in Würzburg, 157 men, women, and children were burned at the stake. All told, some 900 people are believed to have been executed by burning in the city and surrounding territories. They were convicted of sorcery, witchcraft, and having made a pact with the devil.**_

*kluntjes-rock candy used to sweeten tea

*stollen- a sweet bread

* lebkuchen—gingerbread

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**Thanks again for reading!**

**If you feel so inclined, I would love it if you left a review.**

**Also, I know some of you are wondering when I'm going to update Fate Leads the Willing. I'm working out a troublesome plot point in the story and as soon as I have the chapter complete and beta'ed, you will have it. :)**

**You should also know that I am working on a series of collaborations with my friend Infinity Poet. We are writing together under the name: ASouthernVamp. We have one story in progress up on this account, _Morbid Musings of the Vampire Mind_, and more to come. Check it out! www[.]fanfiction[.]net/~asouthernvamp**


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